It's coming closer
by Random'shouse
Summary: The pack should be able to leave town for a week without a mayor tragedy taking place. It should, sadly it's not what happened. Or, there is a vampire in Bacon Hills, of course Stiles is going to cross paths with him.
1. Chapter 1

Notes: The vampires in the story will be vaguely inspired by the ones in The Vampire Diaries and True Blood. There will be more information as the story progresses, ot takes place somewhere before season 3. Let me know what you think!

So, he was dead and he had no one but himself to blame. No Scott, no Derek, no pack related business. Just little old Stiles sticking his nose where it didn't belong. And, he supposed, he could also blame the vampire that killed him.

Things had finally settled down, the alpha pack was gone, hopefully for good, and senior year was in the horizon with a chance to be valedictorian, unless Lydia killed him first which would of course look like a gory and tragic accident, she would probably dedicate a few words to him during her speech. Maybe.

Scott and Alison were back together, there was a pool going on in the pack regarding how long they would last this time, he had a fifty bill coming his way if his beloved best friend managed his relationship for a month. So far it was looking promising, Erica and Jackson had already lost and Boyd would be out if there wasn't a break up before the end of the week. There better not be, Stiles had already decided how he would spent his well-earned money.

All in all life was well, that's why he knew deep in his heart something awful was about to happen. Why, oh why did he always have to be right?!

"We'll be gone for a week." Scott was talking excitedly, waving his hand around for more emphasis.

Stiles peeled his face from his phone for a second. "Scott, my man, you can't just start the conversation in your head dude, I need some context."

"He is talking about the wedding." Isaac interrupted from the kitchen, it was the weekly pack meeting at Derek's loft and, as usual, the first stop was the refrigerator; they were growing teenage boys and werewolves. "Two packs are joining in New York and he was invited to attend. I think he and Laura had stayed with them for a while."

"Ok, what's with the "we" then?" Stiles spoke between bites of chips.

Of course the mighty alpha picked that precise moment to materialize behind Stiles and shave a few years of his future. "The whole pack has to be there as a sign of respect. I sent the message yesterday." Next to him Scott and Isaac nodded in confirmation, Scott, good friend that he was, gave Stiles a few pats on the back to dislodge the chip that was attempting to murder him.

What?... "I didn't get a message."

A furrowed brow was his only response, followed by an exasperated sigh when it became obvious Stiles wanted a more thorough explanation. "You are not coming."

Ok, rude. Stiles considered himself a part of the pack. Hell! He was more useful than any of the others if one wanted to get objective. Why would Derek try to cut him out like that?.

"What the hell Derek! Stiles is part of the pack, why would you try to cut him out like that?" Apparently, lifelong best friends could be eerily similar. Scott was definitely getting the last chip of the bag, no questions asked.

Another exasperated sound and Erica poked her head in the kitchen too. Faced with four potentially emotional teenagers Derek opted for the smart route. A rational explanation followed by a hasty retreat. "Those are very traditional packs, they would not take well to a human among werewolves." And then he was gone.

Under different circumstances Stiles would have objected, fought and argued but he kind of got it. When the Alpha pack attacked them they had looked at Stiles in a decidedly funny way, he'd been curious, so much that he'd asked Peter. Peter! While crazy and a borderline sociopath, Stiles had to admit, he knew more about werewolf behaviour than anyone else. That same night while the pack recovered in the loft from the previous confrontation Stiles had cornered Peter away from prying eyes, as much as Peter could be cornered at least. The answer had been disappointing.

It would seem that he made Derek look weak. As an Alpha he should have turned him, because he was part of the pack, and because, according to some, humans and werewolves shouldn't mix. So a human with the knowledge of werewolves should either be turned or killed.

"I did offer the gift to you my dear, perhaps I shouldn't have bothered asking, one of my greatest regrets. But I have such a large heart that I couldn't just do it. If I ever have the opportunity I would definitely just go for it." The creeper was luckily interrupted by an enraged, red eyed Derek, according to Erica all of the werewolves had heard the little statement followed by Stiles' panicked heart rate. It was the only thing spoken on the subject.

So he decided he wouldn't argue, for once. The human was staying safely in Bacon Hills.

It was the night before the wedding, Scott and Jackson were arguing over the bed arrangement, Isaac sniffed around the room clearly distraught by all the foreign scents and Erica screamed at the bathroom door, where Lydia seemed to be determined to remain until the end of times. All in all Derek was ready to follow in the steps of Deucalion and become a packless Alpha. Peter was definitely not helping, not that he ever did. Boyd could probably stay though; he was so quiet Derek could barely remember he was in the hotel with them.

They had been in New York for four days, Derek had, extremely reluctantly, taken his handful of teenagers to Central Park, and the Statue of Liberty, and shopping, they had even seen a Broadway show at Lydia's insistence, the shopping spree had also been because of Lydia, but Erica had wholeheartedly agreed and the others had no choice but to follow.

He was more than ready to go back, his instincts were demanding he returned to his own territory, and his two missing pack members.

Allison and Scott had a tearful goodbye worthy of a Soap Opera award and spoke daily and nightly. They also Skyped, and texted and emailed and did everything short of sending smoke signals to each other, it was…

"Derek." Scott, phone in hand, took the liberty of interrupting his private musings. "Allison wants to talk to you. Something's happened."

Curiosity peaked he took the phone, Lydia emerged from the bathroom clearly sensing a change in the mood and the rest of the pack gathered around him looking worried, even Peter. To be more accurate he didn't look worried, but he did stand a few inches closer to Derek.

Allison's voice was muffled and borderline hysterical yet the words were perfectly understandable.

A vampire in Bacon Hills.

Ten bodies so far.

Stiles was missing.


	2. Chapter 2

Notes: New chapter!  
First of all thank you for reading :)  
So a few comments:  
Lydia is a werewolf, I thought about making her a banshee, but given the nature of vampires (dead) I thought that would alter the story too much.  
Second, the vampires themselves are a mix of different tropes (except Twilight) they are immortal, nightwalkers and they can't eat food. Like in True Blood and Vampire Diaries it is the age of the vampire that determines its power but other than that there is no real rank. They are solitary individuals and tend to get violent when they spend too much time in each others company. That's all so far, the rest of their characteristics will be reveal as the story progresses.  
And finally, I regret to inform you that the story does NOT take place in the crispy deliciousness that is Bacon Hills, sorry. Thanks for pointing out the mistake!  
And enjoy.

Beacon Hills had been officially werewolf free for two days whole now, quite a feat, the only downside to this rare occurrence would be that Stiles was already bored out of his mind. He didn't miss the drama, not really, what he did miss was the source of the drama, meaning the pack, his friends. Still, he could probably find a way to pass the time, pull an Allison maybe and declare family bonding time. Chris had been excited for about a minute, until he realized that "family time" was actually Allison shopping time with daddy's credit card. Stiles suspected she was just working out her frustrations at missing the shopping spree at NY.

Either way, Stiles had tried the "family time" thing, except his father had joined the Abandon Beacon Hills bandwagon and taken off to visit some relatives. Truthfully, he was relieved to have been left behind, as bored as he was on his own, nothing could compare to the horror of a Stilinsky reunion. The last one he had attended, almost six years prior, had actually included a slide show, little clicking button and everything.

So, he was officially both packless and fatherless. Fine, he could deal. Stiles was not the guy that stayed home and sulked just because his friends were not around. No Sir. In fact he wasn't even going to stay home, the temptation of sulking at least a little would be too great. He changed clothes, grabbed his "dinner only" money, really dad, you expected any different?, and took himself out for a movie. And that wasn't sad at all. No Sir.

The movie experience was quite disappointing, the film itself was bad, as were most movies lately, and the couple making out in the back row was even louder that the special effects from the movie, and we are talking explosions here, it sounded like there was a porn in the making and Stiles was the lame guy that added danger to the scene. Just his luck.

He braved a look behind, it turned out to be a happy couple plus an unlucky third wheel. Stiles felt for the dude, so close to the action, yet so far away. A flash caught his attention, the only thing visible was the girl right hand and that was only because of some hideous nail job, so pink it might just be brighter that the movie screen, the left hand was missing somewhere in the guy's lap, and that's all he needed to see. Back to the film away from the live porn.

Well, the movie was terrible, but he decided he could take himself to get a burger and fries, then maybe the one person date wouldn't be a bust. He'd only wandered a block away from the movies when he heard a shuffle coming from the allay to his left. And, was that a scream? Yeah, it was.

And that, my friend, was another scream.

Flattening himself against the side wall he took a breath and considered his options. Stiles didn't pride himself for being the pack's only rational thinker for nothing. He could call the cops, it would probably take too long, but it might be a regular human killer with a gun and he had no delusions about his ability to handle an armed criminal. Then again, it could be a supernatural being taking advantage of the lack of werewolves in town, less likely but not impossible, and he couldn't risk putting his father's deputies in danger.

A third scream rang through the night and the decision was made. He was not a hero, never pretended to be yet he was also incapable of walking away without at least looking. So, giving his common sense the finger, he ran to the source of the sound as fast as he dared.

The first thing he recognized as he made his way pass the second garbage container was the neon pink nail paint that had distracted him earlier that night, this was immediately followed by the realization that the hand wearing said paint was no longer attached to the corresponding arm. In fact, the back of the alley was littered with body parts and on closer inspection, they belonged to the annoying couple that had spoken all through the movie.  
Yep, that lovely shaped leg was familiar, as was the head that had rolled it's way to Stiles feet.

After that the scene took a film-like quality, the gory remains looked distant and blurry, arms and legs were no different from the empty cans and random pieces of garbage, the only thing in focus was the man crouching over the guy Stiles had dubbed "unfortunate third wheel", even if he was disturbingly limp at least he had made it in one piece, if you ignored the large red stain covering most of his chest.

The figure was moving gently, not facing Stiles, the only thing visible that back of a blond head which bobbed in time with a slurp sound that had burst into Stiles' awareness with disturbing volume. He wished he wasn't frozen in place, he wished he could back away from the alley and pretend nothing had happened, but the scene had paralyzed him as effectively as Jackson's Kanima poison had.

Suddenly the sucking sounds stopped and the body was placed on the floor with a care that was terribly out of place given the state of the other bodies. Was this were the tearing apart started? Sheesh, for all the gory talk that went on around the werewolves he had actually never seen them do anything worse than scratching and nipping, certainly there had never been limbs flying about. Stiles wasn't prepared for severed parts! He was barely on board with the punching and kicking! Why couldn't vampires be more talk than bite?

The second the v-word fluttered through his brain coincided perfectly with the cloaked figure, and wasn't the world just a giant cliché?, turned to face him.

Yep, mouth dripping with blood, check.

Pointy fangs, check.

Something disgustingly fleshy stuck between the teeth, check.

Stiles' body unfroze just in time for him to fall to his knees and say goodbye to his barely digested popcorn.


	3. Chapter 3

So, here is chapter 3  
The story will be told in parallel until the point Stiles is reunited with the pack, a few more facts about the vampires and my conception of the pack will be explained here, but not all at once, there will be more as the story progresses.  
Spoilery warning: The events are not necessarily being told in chronological order :)

Stiles found himself resting on a very soft, plush surface. A couch he decided, a super comfy couch, the couch dreams were made of, they would so have to get one just like this one for their house because, really? Better than his bed.

He rolled over and prepared himself to spend the rest of his life vegetating away when he realized something was not right. And then, holly shit?! Why was he on the world's softest couch when the last thing he remembered was being face to face with a vampire?! A fucking vampire, who had apparently bitten him, given the strange stiffness in his neck and the fact that, on closer inspection, his shirt was caked with blood. Just perfect.

Derek and Scott were going to kill him, that is of course if the vampire didn't kill him first which seemed a very likely occurrence. Why was this his luck? He couldn't even make it one week on his own without stumbling into something supernatural. He'd made super average plans, hadn't gone into the woods because strange things always came from the woods, he hadn't even touched his translation of the bestiary! And yet a perfectly innocent trip to the movies ended with a vampire attack. So unfair.

In between questioning all of the life choices that had led him to that point, Stiles braved a look around the room and realized that, while the couch seemed splendid, everything else was looking really below average, from the decrepit bed down to the moth eaten rug.

"Good, you are awake!" Blood free and dressed in a pair of blue jeans and a polo shirt the vampire looked less than impressive. And vampire-like. Still, Stiles would likely never forget his face and what it could look like with a pair of fangs, pitch black eyes and conveniently placed splashes of blood. It was probably an image that would haunt his dreams for years to come. "I was beginning to worry."

Also, he was ridiculously chipper for a creature of the night.

"If you were going to be so worried then maybe you shouldn't have bitten me, saved yourself a lot of trouble." He thought about saying something to that affect but his throat wasn't working right and the twin wounds on his neck had began to bleed again.

Derek had threatened so many times with ripping his throat with his teeth yet he'd never really thought something like that would happen, granted, he had been extremely lucky up until that point. His life as best friend of a supernatural being, while crazy, had passed with relative ease, never more that they could manage and seldom with permanent damage. Most of the werewolves he knew were all bark and no bite, except Peter of course. The Kanima had been a close call, so were the hunters, but never the werewolves, hell, even the Alpha pack had managed to come and go leaving zero casualties, he'd gotten complacent. Forgotten about the other things that went bump in the night. One of said thing was currently looking at him with curiosity. "You don't talk much, do you?"

Which was ridiculous enough to break him out his shock, because if there was one thing that Stiles Stilinsky did was talk, and no vampire was going to walk around with such a wrong impression of him.

"Strangely enough, I feel more eager to talk while I'm not being kidnapped by vampires, I'm funny that way." Yeah, that's more like it. Stiles might be living his last night on earth but it would definitely not be a silent night.

"Well, I apologize for that, I really didn't mean to take you, but you interrupted me while I was feeding, not really polite and well. We are not supposed to leave witnesses." The vampire was looking awfully apologetic, considering Stiles had seen him tear apart two teenagers and suck dry a third one.

Also, he had some objections to the offhanded way the murders had been described, "feeding" he'd said, well it was feeding to him but there were nicer ways to say it, he supposed that's what cows felt like when people casually talked about hamburgers, or would feel like if they were able to understand human speech. Not the point here. "So, you are going to kill me then."

"I was! I swear, but then I checked your wallet for some cash," seriously? The vampire had to rob him as well as killing him? "and I found your ID, you're Stilinsky's kid, right?"

Suddenly the night (early morning?) took an even stranger turn, how did the vampire know his father, and how was that important for this particular situation? Hell, maybe he had never woken up and this was just a delusion caused by the blood loss. The vampire, he really needed something else to call him, waited for Stiles' baffled nod of the head before continuing. "Well, I went to school with your dad, we were on the football team together, actually we were kind of friends. I mean, we didn't stay in touch after school much and we only hanged out a couple of times whenever we happened to be in town at the same time, then he was spending most of his time with your mom and I became a vampire, so we kinda drifted."

Yep, Stiles was dead, definitely dead and trapped in some kind of purgatory where the couches were comfortable and the vampires spoke to you as if they were old family friends running into you at the supermarket.

"Anyway, I felt bad about killing his kid. So…"

"Sooo, I swear to silence and you let me go?" It wouldn't be the craziest thing to have happened to him, not by far, and it would be a funny tale for when the pack returned, he could now even describe what the vampire looked like, Stiles was sure the wolves would want to kick him out of their territory, he had killed people and injured a pack member. Lately they were being extra protective of him, finally getting it into their heads that humans were more breakable than werewolves and took longer to heal. Scott was even refusing him shoulder bumps after catching Stiles shirtless and bruised once. They were taking it a bit a bit too far, regardless, a vampire feasting on him? Very bad news for the vampire.

"Nononono, I have rules to follow, you know? No witnesses, no matter what." He shook his head regretfully but his eyes belied his enthusiasm. He looked like he was telling Stiles Christmas was coming earlier. "Actually, the rules are no human witnesses, so it's in fact very simple. I don't have to kill you, I just have to turn you!"

While the teens hastily put together their luggage Derek rushed to speak to Amelia, the lovely bride, and explain that they absolutely had to leave early, luckily Amelia was a reasonable werewolf and understood the need to protect the territory against trespassers, and vampires were as bad as it could get. He couldn't mention that in addition to the litter of bodies the vampire had taken a member of his pack because said member was a human boy and supposed to be inexistent.

Scott was forcing his bag's zipper so much that it was sure to fall apart within moments. A vampire! He didn't even know they existed, and even less how dangerous they were, luckily, and please read that as sarcastically as you possibly can, Peter was giving a very detail explanation of what vampires could do, he was only missing the graphic charts and teacher glasses.

It sounded bad, bloodthirsty, yeah Hollywood had taught him as much; faster than werewolves, not good; stronger than an Alpha, even worse; and terribly aggressive, especially when it had settled in a hunting ground. It was bad by itself, disastrous if the hunters were to assume the pack was responsible for the killings, not to mention that his friends, neighbors and classmates were in danger. And yet, he couldn't think of any of that, all that mattered to Scott at the time was that the vampire had Stiles, his best friend and that he could be dead for all they knew.

A quick glance around the room showed his packmates' desperation, frantic shoving of clothing, even the new purchases and Lydia seemed prepared to leave most of her packages behind if she couldn't fit them in her suitcases. It was clear they were all thinking the same thing. Stiles could already be dead and because he was human there wasn't even a pack bond to let them know.

No one could blame him for the furious howl that made it past his lips, and nobody disagreed.


End file.
